


When You're Not Here

by AsheTarasovich (natalieashe), natalieashe



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, no james
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 09:48:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4055500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalieashe/pseuds/AsheTarasovich, https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalieashe/pseuds/natalieashe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q comes home to an empty flat</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You're Not Here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Boffin1710](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boffin1710/gifts).



> A little bit of tooth-rotting sweetness for my dear friend. Everything is better with sugar on top :-D

He is exhausted. Hasn't slept properly for three days. 007, Cairo, exploding motorbike. Two holes in the agent this time but at least the bastard is in the hands of an evacuation team now. He can go home.

He doesn't recall how he gets there. Auto pilot. Or a driver. He drops everything at the door, shuffling to the bedroom, shedding clothes as he goes. And stands naked in the doorway for a long time... The flat is silent as the grave, and that's just not right.

The door opens with a creak and he sighs. Runs a hand along the rack of clothing. Suits, jackets, shirts, trousers. No order. Haphazardly hung. He pulls out a shirt, navy blue, worn soft with age. Jeans, almost brand new, still stiff. Charcoal fine knit sweater. His favourite. Laid out on the bed. Sleeves spread wide, empty of arms. After a moment he adds shorts and socks. Sighs again.

Slowly he dresses. Expensive socks eased over his toes. And really, who would spend thirty pounds on one pair of socks? Shorts sag, hang dangerously low on narrow hips. Jeans cinched so tight with a brown leather belt. Oh. The belt. This belt. He rolls back the cuffs on the shirt. Smothers himself in the soft drape of dark grey comfort. 

He is ready. Sleep comes.

Hours later he smiles. Warm, solid happiness embraces him, holds him close. Hot breath and teasing lips coax him from his dream. "You weren't here" he murmurs "so I surrounded myself with you."

A quiet chuckle. A squeeze. "You did indeed, my love, in your own unique way. Sleep. I'm home now."


End file.
